


The Friday Night Show

by fhartz91



Series: Klaine One-shots [88]
Category: Glee
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 12:33:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14105466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/fhartz91
Summary: Kurt and Blaine stumble drunk into the loft when they think they're alone ... but as it turns out, they're not as alone as they think.





	The Friday Night Show

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-write, which takes place ambiguously during the time when Santana and Dani are dating, and Blaine is visiting from Lima, but making plans to move in.

Kurt giggles as he trips down the hallway to the loft, catching the toe of his shoe on the floor and nearly falling on his face. Blaine’s hands, latched around his hips. keep him mostly upright, though if he hadn’t managed to right himself at the last minute, he would have fallen with Kurt, crushing his poor boyfriend beneath his body.

He doesn’t mind the thought of having Kurt beneath him, just not out in the hallway for the neighbors to see.

“You know, you really can’t hold your tequila,” Blaine comments while a swaying Kurt fumbles for his key to the sliding loft door. Blaine pulls Kurt’s hips back roughly against him, letting Kurt feel how hard he already is, hoping that will hurry things along.

“Yeah … well … if I _could_ , Friday nights might not be half as fun,” Kurt says between hiccups. “At least this way you know you’re going to get laid.”

“I would like to believe I don’t need to get you drunk for that.”

“You don’t. But that doesn’t mean it’s not fun this way. Besides, I couldn’t say no to you if I tried.” Kurt wrenches the key hard in the stuck lock, yelping with triumph when he hears the tumblers move.

“You have before,” Blaine reminds him soberly.

“True.” Kurt turns in Blaine’s arms, eager to assault his lips. “But those were under very different circumstances. And you’re not that guy anymore.”

“Still …” Blaine pulls away, which forces Kurt to chase him “… sometimes I think you should have …”

“Blaine.” Their foreheads meet as Kurt stares into his boyfriend’s guilt-steeped eyes.

“Yes?”

“If you want to talk about that night, we’ll talk about it. But for now … stop talking.”

Blaine smiles, laying claim to Kurt’s lips the second he has permission. He picks Kurt up, and Kurt wraps his legs around Blaine’s waist. With a barely effective kick of his foot to slide the loft door shut, Blaine carries Kurt across the floor to his room.

“Do you think Rachel …?”

“No.” Kurt cuts Blaine’s question off prematurely, answering him around nips to his mouth and kisses to his jaw. “You would have heard her screaming already if she was home. You know how she feels about this.” Kurt grins wickedly against Blaine’s lips. “We’ve got the place entirely to ourselves.”

“You know …” Blaine stops walking for a second to secure his grip, moving his hands to grab Kurt’s ass. He’s not worried about dropping his boyfriend since Kurt’s legs are locked like vices around his hips “… just because she’s not getting any at the moment doesn’t mean she has the right to ruin everyone else’s fun.”

Blaine struggles with the privacy curtain, not wanting to let go of Kurt’s ass long enough to deal with the damn thing properly. Kurt reaches out a hand, grabs the end of the fabric, and tosses it aside, leaving a completely unobstructed view into his bedroom area. Blaine steps to the side to chase the curtain and pull it shut, but Kurt slaps him on the shoulder.

“Leave it, leave it, leave it,” he scolds. “It doesn’t matter. Need you now.”

Blaine can’t resist the animalistic whine in Kurt’s voice. He keeps walking until they hit the far wall, and there Blaine keeps them, with Kurt pinned up against the smooth brick.

“Blaine …” Kurt lowers himself to the floor, working open the fly to Blaine’s jeans “… if we were just going to have sex standing up against the wall, we could have done it in the bathroom at the club.”

“Wow.” Blaine opens Kurt’s zipper and fly much quicker than Kurt is managing his, shoving down his jeans (and only his jeans since Kurt went sans underwear) to his knees. “I never thought I’d hear the day when you’d prefer a quickie in the bathroom.”

“I didn’t say I _preferred_ it,” Kurt argues, letting Blaine spin him around, bracing his hands against the wall, “I’m just saying …”

“Oh my God!” Blaine interrupts with a low, guttural moan, having run his hands between Kurt’s cheeks and discovering his little surprise. “How long have you had _that_ in there?” Blaine takes hold of the end of Kurt’s toy – a smooth metal plug he had bought in secret days early – and turns it slowly, pulling it out a bit and then pushing it back into Kurt’s hole with shallow thrusts.

“All night long,” Kurt purrs, moving his ass back and forth as Blaine pushes and pulls. “I wanted to keep myself open for you, baby.”

“Oh, _God_ …” Blaine slides the plug out and tosses it on the bed, preparing to replace it with his cock “… you can’t just say things like that. You know there are consequences.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Kurt cries as Blaine pushes himself past his gaping entrance. “I was sort of counting on that.”

Blaine moves Kurt’s head aside and sucks a dark purple mark on the pale skin of his neck. “You’re such a tease, aren’t you?” he murmurs. “Keeping that in there, waiting for me to find it. You’re just begging to be fucked, aren’t you?”

“Only by you,” Kurt sighs in a voice that can’t keep itself to any one register, breaking at odd intervals and dissolving into moans the more Blaine sucks, the harder he pounds.

“Kurt,” Blaine whispers, his own voice breaking, “you’re so open for me. I’m not going to last long.”

“That’s okay.” Kurt crawls down the wall and leans back to match Blaine’s thrusts. “This is just round one. I have a few more surprises up my sleeve.”

Blaine whimpers through gritted teeth, remembering the last surprise Kurt had for him, which involved handcuffs, a ball gag, and sexy lace lingerie. Blaine goes silent, his jaw slack, hanging open as he tries to remember to breath. He pounds harder and harder to keep up with Kurt’s wanton chant of, “faster, faster, faster …”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit …” Blaine chokes as he cums, reaching around frantically when he suddenly remembers Kurt’s neglected cock and moaning again when he feels Kurt’s hand beneath his, already stroking himself madly.

“Come on,” Blaine whispers, hips still moving, trying to last just a little longer for his boyfriend’s sake. “Cum for me, baby. You know you want to.”

“I know, Blaine. I am. I … _fuck_ …” His orgasm cuts off the rest of his sentence, lodging it in his throat. He abandons himself to a single, drawn out swear as he paints the brick in front of him with his cum. “Jesus Christ, Blaine! The wall! Oh, fuck!”

“Don’t worry.” Blaine holds Kurt tight against him until he feels his cock go soft. “I’m sure it comes right off.”

Kurt laughs, enjoying the sensation of melting into his boyfriend’s arms, but as he’s getting ready to suggest that they move to the bed for the next round, his moment of peace is cut short by the sound of hooting and applause.

“Bravo!” twin female voices shout from the living room. “Bravo! Excellent! Very well done!”

Kurt clamps his jaw tight, almost biting his own tongue in two, so Blaine speaks for them both.

“God dammit, Santana!” he bellows over his shoulder. “ _Again_? What the hell are you doing here?”

Kurt stands vertical like a shot, pulling up his jeans quickly, nearly getting his flaccid cock caught in the fly.

“So, what did you think, Dani?” Santana asks, side-eying her snickering girlfriend and blatantly ignoring Blaine’s rage-filled question.

“Oh, I would definitely give them a 10.” Dani claps, shaking her head from side to side like a judge on _America’s Got Talent_. “I have to say that their artistry is definitely improving, as is their form overall. And the addition of the toys and the dirty talk … always a crowd favorite.”

“Really?” Santana frowns. “I don’t know. The entry was pretty smooth, I’ll admit, but that dismount.” Santana bows her head and sighs dramatically. “I’m afraid I’ll have to give you boys an eight.”

“Get _out_!” Blaine yells louder.

“Don’t get your panties in a knot. Eight’s a solid score.”

“When is she moving out again?” Blaine growls, reaching between them to inconspicuously zip up his jeans and help Kurt with his.

“Technically, she already moved out,” Kurt hisses back, taking over with his zipper and the button to his fly. “She just won’t give us back her frickin’ key.”

“Why would I?” Santana pipes in, proving that their hushed talking is essentially useless. “If I can’t get in here while you guys are out, how can I rummage through Berry’s things, and …” She gestures to the two of them huddled against the wall “… I would miss out on my favorite Friday night show.”

 


End file.
